


kiss me, kill me, tell me you miss me

by gossamernotes



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF!Natasha, Gen, M/M, Protective!Bucky, and steve just wants wants to kiss him senseless, bucky stands up for natasha, fabulous drabbles from a bored mind, smitten!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2424464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossamernotes/pseuds/gossamernotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameras flicker, flashing throughout the room, but the team can only stare at Bucky.</p><p>"My bad," he says as if his middle finger wasn't currently flying in the face of every reporter in the room. "It's malfunctioning. There's nothing I can do."</p><p>[The story wherein sexist reporters suck, the team stands up for their own, Clint wants it for the Vine, and Bucky's middle finger takes the world by storm.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me, kill me, tell me you miss me

**Author's Note:**

> follow and fangirl with me on [tumblr](http://brooklynboystosupersoldiers.tumblr.com) because I love you all.
> 
> Here is a drabble that was spurred by a hilarious tumblr prompt here:[prompt](http://profxofficial.tumblr.com/post/92525524633/head-cannon-the-avengers-completed-with-sam-and).
> 
> Let me know what y'all think. This is a bit silly, and I have zero regrets.

"Stark, is it true that you'll be starring on Dancing with the Stars this season?"

"With damage mounting from the team's...adventures, what plans do you have to help those things you've 'smashed', Dr. Banner? The people demand answers."

"Hawkeye — _erm_ , Mr. Barton, sorry — women want to know if there are any lucky ladies nesting in your tree? Any girls chirping at you these days?"

Steve sighs, fighting the urge to bang his head against the desk repeatedly and with great force. He might be a super soldier — the very height of human perfection — but even Steve can feel his brain cells dying away as he listens to the hoard of reporters go on and on. 

A glint of metal shines at the corner of his eye, and Steve turns his head to find Bucky leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. A thin smile tugs at his lips, watching the cameras shuttering in front of them, but Steve can see the tense hold of his shoulders. So he moves a hand under the table and rests it on Bucky's knee, squeezing lightly over the ripped denim. 

Bucky's eyes light up and flicker towards Steve. On his own, Steve feels a grin settle. 

"Alright," Tony calls from the other end of the table. "Do any of you have actually good questions that don't make me want to jump out this window," he says with a thumb over his shoulder. Sam snorts, and Steve knows that he's thinking about it — and if Sam had his wings on — there's no doubt that he'd dive right on out of the conference room and into the clear skies outside. 

A mousy reporter stands, notepad clutched in his thick fingers, and Steve blinks at the glare that bounds from his balding head. 

"I've got a question for Ms. Romanoff."

Bucky snorts. And, from across the table, Natasha leans forward on her elbows with a dangerous smile. 

"Go on."

The reporter shifts from foot to foot. "As the first female on the team, Ms. Romanoff, our readership wants to know how hard it is for you to keep up with your male teammates in the field? How do you overcome your deficits in order to carry your weight on the team?"

The room falls quiet, and when one reporter towards the back drops their pen in fear, Steve can clearly hear its tinny tip as it hits the floor. Like everyone else, he turns his stare towards Natasha whose eyes look ready to kill.

"May I ask who you're writing for," she asks, and Steve doesn't miss the way the reporter's throat bobs in his throat. 

"Men's Monthly," he stutters, and Steve really, really considers grabbing his shield and jumping out of the window like Sam — like everyone else — wishes they could. 

Natasha settles back into her seat, and Steve feels sweat bead at his neck under the crowded tension in the air. It isn't until he sees Bucky lean forward, elbows propped against the table, that he sees what's about to happen. 

Metal hand clinched in a fist, Bucky slowly unwinds his middle finger and lets it fly a flag across the room that can only say one thing: _Fuck Off_.

The reporter squeaks at the sight, paling as he stands. "Excuse me," he says, and even Steve has to admire the guy's guts. Laughter breaks across the table — nervous and halted — except for Tony who has pulled out his phone.

When Clint whispers, "Do it for the Vine," beside him, Steve bites his tongue to keep from laughing. But Bucky keeps a straight face as he stares across the crowd, eyes finally landing on the reporter who asked the stupid question.

"My bad," he says. "It's malfunctioning. There's nothing I can do about it."

Natasha nods, curled hair bobbing against her shoulders at the move, and waves a hand towards the reporter who looks like he's about to drop. 

"I suggest you sit down now," she tells him with a voice harder than steel. "I can see how hard it is for you to keep up with this."

Feet falling from underneath him, the reporter slumps into his chair with empty notes — and Bucky still sits with his middle finger high in the air. Steve shakes his head and reaches for the hand, bending the finger under his palm until the two are holding hands. He links his fingers with Bucky's, relishing the cold metal under his grip, and thinks of what to say, to do. 

He settles for: _Ah, what the hell?_

Craning his neck, Steve catches Bucky's jaw with his chin before bringing his lips to Bucky's chapped ones. There is a moment of hesitation — of what is happening and why are you doing this here — before Bucky tilts his head, moving his lips against the tender skin of Steve's. And when Bucky opens his mouth, sucking Steve's lips between his teeth, Steve can only cross his legs and think of how much he's wanted this. He realizes all that he's missed after all this time.

It's hard to focus on that, though, when Bucky's breath hitches into his mouth. He'd like nothing more than to call a recess and shove Bucky against the nearest stairwell, running his hands against his taut skin and tasting everything along the way.

He's not going to have the chance, Steve knows. Definitely not.

That much is certain since all of the reporters are now on their feet, hands waving in the air as they vie for attention, for a quote, for _anything_ to explain why Captain America is sucking face with the Winter Solider. 

"Captain Rogers!?"

"Is this your official statement for coming out?"

From further down the table, another voice calls. "Get it, Steve. You show him what he's working with!"

Steve ignores them and instead focuses on the touch of Bucky's mouth. 

He finds that it is a better way to deal with these press junkets than most.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, settings, plot lines, concepts, or terminology as created, used, and owned by Marvel Entertainment, LLC ®. This is a work of fanfiction.


End file.
